Live Review: Jay Whalley

21 August 2014 | 11:08 pm | Ran Boss

Whalley wields an indomitable wit, both as a songwriter and performer.

Jay Whalley has been a formidable public figure since Frenzal Rhomb kicked off in the early ‘90s. His on (and off) stage adventures, stint on triple j breakfast radio and seemingly irrepressible appetite for touring, has kept Whalley in the hearts and minds of Australian fans for decades. The Grace Emily Hotel played host to the first night of an expansive solo tour, set to run into November, and showed that you can never truly know a man until you put him on stage alone with an acoustic guitar.

In intimate surrounds, which, in Whalley’s words, smelt (endearingly) “like a 1997 sharehouse”, the crowd was charmed by his personal tales of family, friends and a life at the Australian music frontier. Opening with a touching tribute to his son, Whalley progressed through stripped-back versions of Frenzal Rhomb songs, solo tunes and a handful of covers (well worth experiencing with no expectations).

Pleasingly, Whalley’s guitar work has developed over the years and he was able to showcase complexity beyond the standard thrashing at punky chords. This heightened the mood of his more tender moments. The odd wayward sound was quickly forgiven as an endearing foible as Whalley worked through some barely perceptible first-show-of-the-solo-tour nerves.

Whalley wields an indomitable wit, both as a songwriter and performer. His works remain simple and unpretentious, but dastardly clever in their use of contrast and Aussie vernacular. While calm and reflective on stage, Whalley’s wry lyrics and banter kept the crowd in good supply of laughs and feels throughout the night.

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Taken back to the basics of acoustic guitar and lone gruff voice, the political and philosophical messages of Whalley’s songs struck firmly. The audience had headspace to soak up a more pensive version of the anti-establishment vibes that Whalley has been presenting throughout his career.

Slowed-down renditions of 5000 Cigarettes and When My Baby Smiles At Me I Go To Rehab brought some mild rowdiness for the Frenzal faithful (of which there were plenty), but in all Whalley’s set was contemplative and relaxed.

Whalley’s candour and brevity, both in his songs and between them, made for a heartfelt and engaging performance. The show offered both an insight into the back-end of the Frenzal process and the performer’s life. Frenzal fans may have gotten a little more out of the show than the otherwise uninitiated, but Whalley’s performance stood alone as an entertaining and accessible evening.